


Nothing But This

by sabinelagrande



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dom Phil Coulson, Dom/sub, Handcuffs, M/M, Spanking, Sub Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 09:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is nowhere else Clint would rather be. Which is good, because he's not getting away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing But This

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV, prompts: handcuffs, warmth, fingers
> 
> Also written for my second anniversary of writing this pairing. <3

Clint swallows hard, looking up at Phil, who's standing over him and smiling a devastating, predatory smile. Clint strains against the cuffs, his shoulders working, but it's no use.

Clint doesn't actually want to get away, mind. Struggling is just hot.

"You're trying to get away?" Phil says. "You told me I could do anything I wanted with you."

"I know I _said_ that-" Clint starts, but he wisely shuts up when Phil raises an eyebrow at him.

"I don't know what to do first," Phil tells him. "Maybe I'll make you pick. Make you beg me for what you want."

"If I beg for something, you're not gonna give it to me," Clint points out.

"I said I was going to make you pick," Phil says. "I didn't say I was going to make you pick then do what you've chosen."

Clint gives him a look. "You're kind of an asshole, sir."

"I don't know when you started thinking that I wasn't," Phil says. He unbuckles his belt, unbuttoning his pants and slowly dragging down his zipper, teasing Clint with it. "But I know what you can do while I consider my options."

When Phil takes his cock out, Clint doesn't hesitate, leaning forward and wrapping his lips around it. He might be in a little bit of a bratty mood, but he's very clear on the fact that he wants this, Phil's cock heavy on his tongue, pushing into his mouth over and over again.

"So that's what you want," Phil says, putting his hand on the back of Clint's head to guide him. "I don't know why I'm surprised."

Clint glances up at him, because he knows Phil is a very easy mark; he can't get enough of watching his cock moving in and out of Clint's mouth, and seeing Clint look up at him just makes it that much hotter.

"Stop that," Phil says, narrowing his eyes. "I know what you're doing."

Clint shrugs, looking back down, bobbing his head, his mouth moving up and down on Phil's cock. It's an easy thing to get lost in, the right place to get caught up in a false sense of security.

Clint knows this intellectually. He's just not thinking about it right now.

Phil pushes him away, and Clint makes a noise of disappointment; when he tries to catch Phil's cock with his mouth, Phil pushes him away again, more firmly this time. "That's enough," Phil says. "Get up."

Clint looks up at Phil, looking down at himself in an illustrative motion, attempting to demonstrate the part where he's handcuffed, possibly the part where he still has a plug up his ass. "Easier said than done."

Phil puts his hands under Clint's arms, levering him carefully up, which is a little adventure given the way the plug moves in him when he tries to stand. For like fifteen seconds he thinks Phil is going to be merciful, guide him carefully, but then Phil spins him around and shoves him over the bed, which is really more Phil's style.

Phil doesn't give him a warning when the first slap comes; there's just the sudden pain and noise, and Clint rocks forward into the bed, his cock rubbing against the sheets. Phil runs his hand over Clint's skin like he's admiring it, and Clint knows he's in for it. If Phil were going to just slap his ass a couple times, he'd be doing it, but this is definitely different. This is preparation.

Phil hits him again; he's not doing it as hard as he could be, and that also endorses the sustained spanking theory. Clint's going to be here for a while, while Phil turns his skin pink and then red, maybe even bruises him up.

He is _so_ okay with this plan.

Phil hits him a few more times, and Clint can feel his skin starting to warm under Phil's hands. Then Phil _hits_ him, a loud, hard strike that makes Clint cry out; it's partially from the pain and partially from the fact that when he does it like that, the plug jolts inside Clint's ass, lighting him up.

"You're a devious fucker," Clint says, through clenched teeth, when Phil hits him again.

"That's why you love me," Phil says.

"One of the many reasons," Clint tells him. Phil scrubs his fingers through Clint's hair for a moment, and without even seeing him, Clint can feel him smile. 

Of course, then he hits Clint even harder, hard enough that it seems like it goes through his whole body, shoves him forward, because Phil really is a dick.

Clint really wants something to bite down on, a pillow to bury his face in, but he wouldn't ask. He feels kind of mortified, the way he always does in these situations, but he knows how much Phil gets off on hearing him, on knowing what he's doing to Clint. He can give Phil that, let Phil have it even if he can't bring himself to give it to anybody else.

Phil is hitting him even harder now, and Clint can feel his skin redden, the way the warmth seems to suffuse him, spreading out from Phil's hands against his skin and moving into his core- though mostly to his dick, which is rock hard and leaking precome all over the bed, no doubt leaving a big wet patch that will make it completely obvious how much he's into this. But maybe he can give Phil that too, let him see how much this is turning him on, exactly what he's doing to Clint.

"Jesus Christ," Phil says, after a few particularly hard smacks, running his hands over Clint's skin; his voice is hoarse and sexy, that hot way it gets when he's overcome. "God, you look good."

"Good enough to fuck, sir?" Clint says, spreading his legs a little.

Clint gasps as Phil pulls the plug out halfway, then slams it back in. "You always look that good."

"Then fuck me," Clint says; it's not quite a moan, but it's definitely somewhere close.

Phil pulls the plug partway out again, moving it in and out of Clint's ass. "I don't know," he says. "Should I really?"

"C'mon, sir, please," Clint says, adjusting his stance so that his legs are spread even wider.

Phil sighs, pulling the plug out finally. "I spoil you, you know."

Clint doesn't respond, not verbally anyway, just cants his hips up, asking for it without words, needing it, needing Phil's cock in him badly, maybe more than he thought he did before he started begging for it. Phil doesn't make him wait; he lines up and pushes in hard, just takes him all at once, gives it all to him.

"Sir," Clint says, more like a sigh than anything, pushing back against him.

Phil hums in appreciation, stroking his fingers over the palms of Clint's bound hands briefly. That's about the end of nice and sweet, because then Phil puts his hands on Clint's shoulders, fucking him hard, pulling Clint's whole body onto his cock, all of him, everything there for Phil to use. Clint shudders all over at the feeling of it, the overriding pleasure, the sensation of being at Phil's mercy like that. Probably he should be tensing up and freaking out right now, but he relaxes into the bed, going boneless as Phil fucks into him over and over again. There's no need to worry about it, nothing to do but take it; Phil's got it under control, he's got Clint under control. He's doing just what he wants with Clint, and Clint is very happy to let him do it.

"Where do you want me to come?" Phil asks him, leaning down close to his ear. "Ask me for it."

"What if I told you not to?" Clint says, and Phil laughs.

"I don't think that would end very well for you," Phil says.

"Well, I mostly just meant I want you to fuck me for at least another three days," Clint says.

"That is a very attractive proposition," Phil tells him. "But that's not quite how this is going to go."

"How is this going to go, then?" Clint asks.

"First I'm going to fuck you until I come," Phil says, and Clint shivers a little at that. "Then I'm going to push that plug back inside you, and you're going to wait until I get hard again."

"Then what?" Clint asks innocently.

Phil shoves into him hard, holding him down, and Clint gasps, the pain of Phil's weight against his sore ass mingling with the pleasure of Phil's cock so deep inside of him, so good. "You know very well what," Phil says, biting the back of his neck.

"Come in me," Clint moans. "Come in my ass."

"Do you like that idea?" Phil says, fucking him faster. "Being filled up with my come until I'm ready to use you again?"

"Are you surprised, sir?" Clint says.

"Not at all," Phil tells him. "It just sounds hot when I say it."

"Does it sound hot when I say it?" Clint asks. "Does it turn you on if I tell you about how much I want you to fill me with your come, mark me with it, make me keep it there so I don't forget what you did?"

"If you keep talking like that, I'm going to go off," Phil says tightly.

"Sorry, sir," Clint says.

"I didn't say stop," Phil says.

"I want you to come in me," Clint says. He's moaning, but it's not the least bit theatrical, not at all done for effect; it's just what he really, really wants most out of life at this particular moment. "Please, please, sir, I want you to fill me up, make me yours. I wanna feel it, wanna feel you in me like that, so I know you're there, can't forget about how hard you fucked me and how much I wanted it-"

Phil makes an incoherent noise, his fingers tightening on Clint's shoulders as he comes, and it is every bit as hot as Clint wanted it to be, makes him feel just as debauched and owned and loved as he thought it would. 

Phil doesn't move for the longest time, just stays there, his hands resting on Clint's back. Clint doesn't make any attempt to stop him, doesn't want to do anything at all to disrupt this moment. Phil doesn't pull out until he absolutely has to, and Clint feels empty without him, like he's missing a piece.

"The plug," Clint says, when Phil starts to move away, because he isn't entirely sure Phil remembers.

Phil snorts in amusement. "So I guess you liked that idea."

"Well, I mean, you had a-" Clint's voice hitches when Phil pushes it back inside of him, not particularly gently- "plan, and I didn't think you wanted to forget it."

"Trust me, I wasn't going to," Phil says, easing Clint up and kissing him. His kisses are good, grounding, and Clint lets himself melt into them, lets Phil hold him up.

"So am I getting these cuffs off any time soon?" Clint asks.

"Ah," Phil says, turning him around and unhooking the connector between the cuffs. He turns Clint back around-

-and immediately clips the cuffs back together.

"Nope," Phil tells him.

"I really should have seen that coming," Clint says.

"Oh well, too late now," Phil says. "Anyway, you don't actually want to go anywhere."

"Nowhere I'd rather be," Clint tells him, and Phil's smile is beautiful.


End file.
